The usual, extremely boring play of routine would have had Seymour awake in the morning. This was not so today.
Today Seymour did not awake in the morning.
He awoke in the mid-afternoon, having been kept up by so many spirits.
This was all unbeknownst to the staff of the hotel and a maid went to go see if he was dead to find out who owed the money for his stay, short though it had been.
The ensuing confusion (this tends to occur so often in Spira that no one counts it as a factor for anything, it being as common as air. However it should be accounted for in this situation because people in Spira do not act the way rational and nearly-rational people in this universe do), arguing, accusations of who was dead and would be and—worst of all—Seymour waking up and realizing the whole experience had not been, in fact, a horrible hallucination brought on by his mind finally breaking his sanity in two caused a not-at-all-out-of-the-ordinary fight in the hotel.
What was out of the ordinary was the fact that one of the participants survived.
No one really took this to mind, mind you, for just after—or possibly just before, memories are sketchy, and some gone—a victor had been decided, the hotel came down.
Before the debris, dust, dangerously huge pieces of building, and bodies had finished falling Seymour had walked off. It wasn’t as if there was a reason for him to stick around. Even though he’d slept in, the policy had clearly stated the stay was free if the hotel fell down. He presumed it this rule also applied to it falling up.
Upon returning to The Big Unnamed Building for Maesters (that is actually what it was called), he strolled in, punched Kinoc in the face—Mika thought Seymour was conspiring with the Spiders and Kelk merely wondered why no one had done that before and then got distracted by his own tail—and gave his guards all raises. Not out of generosity, mind you, but because they’d need it after Seymour had Mary teach them all something about clueing in on assassination plans.
Seymour later put out a personals ad with the help of his secretary, who was always inclined to help Seymour, for he was the only person who would use healing spells on her lower back pain instead of just watching her jiggle.
Tidus gave up heroing, which gave the ‘monsters’ a chance to grow and breed and eat each other in natural peace and restore their numbers and the local ecology. He went on to help the hungry, the poor, the sick, and attempted to help the uneducated, but found they were smarter than he was, and proved that dreams really do come true, so long as they are blonde.
Yuna became a singer, giving the world songs about puppies and flowers and rainbows, and when she felt the need to give a particularly angsty song, lost puppies and flowers and rainbows. No one had the heart to tell her she sucked.
Wakka joined the theatre, because what he really wanted to do was direct, but he wasn’t much good at that either.
Rikku tried many, many times to develop a machina that was not meant to be used in battle—a notion that confused the entire Al Behd nation and everyone thought she was loonier than usual. Most blew up, only half were meant to, but she became famous for inventing the first combination bicycle-lawnmower-toaster. It also blew up.
Lulu was still her usual self—which is not very notable—but went on to answer Seymour’s personal ad—which is—and the two were later happily married. Afterwards no one feared Seymour more than they would an eggplant, for they were all convinced that—if it didn’t eat her in three seconds—Lulu could convince Sin to stop smashing things and do her taxes. This did add moving moogle dolls to Seymour’s list of fears, which already had Dark Temples, Desolate Islands, and Cold Places That Resembled Construction Sites on it, but no one other than him cared.
And so a sense of brotherhood and sisterhood (without the squabbling, hair-pulling, tattling, and overall annoyance) swept of Spira, destroying Sin like a tooth from so much sugar.
This, however, lasted two minutes, for someone stepped on someone else’s shoe, starting the whole process of clueless suicides, praised martyrs, and plotholes all over again.
The fourth wall was never fully repaired. In the far future, philosophers and scientists both agreed on a theory that I was broken before the beginning of time. Everything else they disagree about and claim the other profession has nothing to do with real life. They are, of course, both wrong, and neither has a sense of humor, an absolute irony for they are both dedicated to the happiness of people in general, but disapprove of its actual practice.